Come Sail Away IC Inbox

[crushed_pearls]

Erin's voice mail message is in a weary voice: "Erin Peters. If you called in the middle of the night and I didn't answer, I'm dying. If I pick up and someone on your end isn't dying, they will be shortly. Text otherwise."

Comments

[serialskiller]

“Yes. I wish I didn’t, but I do understand. Deeply.” It goes to the bathroom for a towel, and rather than moving closer to give it to her, tosses it onto the bed. With some people, that would be an act of disrespect. Right now, it seems proper.

“And now I know why you understand, too.”

[crushed_pearls]

"Good. Thank you." Stiffly, like a wounded animal, Erin takes the towel with her good hand and binds her knuckles. Red seeps into the cloth.

"...I know I've probably distressed you. I'm not sorry, but... you didn't do anything wrong, SecUnit. At least not anything I can explain as wrong without putting you through several college degrees. I. Am going to go be alone. For awhile. I'll see you no later than 8 AM tomorrow."

[serialskiller]

“I will see you then.”

It nods slightly. “If the hand is still in bad shape then, I may suggest the infirmary again. But go be alone, it helps.”

[crushed_pearls]

"I don't scar when I heal," Erin murmurs. She might not even be aware that she's talking. "He wanted me to know that I couldn't die."

She goes, taking the towel with her. A thin puddle of blood is left behind.